The Diplomacy of Love
by Cassiel08
Summary: Emma Kingston is about to discover a shocking secret about her family friend, a vampire named Elijah Hunter, and his dealings with her family and her kingdom.
1. Chapter 1

Characters:  
Emma Kingston - 17 years old, she is the only daughter of the Prince and Ambassador of Belleterra. She and her parents live at the Court of Mesana, called Trenala. She has lived there since she was 3, only visiting her "home" on special occassions. She is smart, but modest and quite shy, only showing her wit and sarcasm with those she's comfortable with.

Elijah Hunter - Vampire Prince living at Trenala, serving as ambassador for his kind. He's quite civilized, but most are afraid of him, except the other paranormal creatures at Court. Despite this, Emma is rather fond of him. He appears to be about 20-21, but is really several centuries old.

Emma Kingston, the only daughter of Prince Ambassador Kingsotn, was sitting at the long dining room table in one of the numerous halls in the Court of Mesana. She was pretending to be amused by the anectdotes of some ancient Earl or Duke, and it was all she could do to keep her eyes from glazing over, and felt rather overtaxed by the necessity of responding appropriately with smiles and gentle laughter. It was a good thing the gentleman was almost blind, so that Emma did not even need to be surreptitious about her frequent glances towards the clock. In exactly 3 minutes, she was expecting to be rescued.

Her rescuer was not so much a knight in shining armor as a Vampire in black leather. Elijah Hunter was the Vampire ambassador at Mesana's Court, Trenala. Most of Trenala's residents were quite wary of the Vampire Prince, but over the years, a certain affection and friendship had developed between Emma and Elijah. This was due in no small part to Elijah's close associations with her father. During her childhood and adolescence, Elijaah was present in her family's apartments quite as often as herself! He had treated the young girl with affection and care characteristic of an attentive elder brother. Recently, however, he had acknowledged that Emma was almost grown up, and had begun to include her in his more mischevious exploits. His eternally youthful appearance (he looked perhaps 20 or 21) made him predisposed to such incidences of mild delinquency. Emma, though only 17, was quite keen to be included in his fun, not because she had any sort of romantic attachment to Elijah, but because her life at Court had taken on a dull, repetitious quality that was hardly to be endured.

The night's adventure began as planned, when Elijah made a discreet and polite entrance into the Dining Hall. After the proper murmured apologies for the intrusion, he came to stand behind Emma's chair before bending down to whisper loudly enough for her neighbors to eavesdrop, that one of the children was ill and calling for her. It was well known that the children at Court had a great affinity for Emma, so the excuse was plausible. Begging for her father's leave, she kissed him quickly and was escorted out of the hall by Elijah.  
"That was hardly a challenge, perhaps next time I ought to kidnap you out of the hall and cause some real mayhem." Elijah said once they were outside.  
"You most certainly should not! You'd never be invited 'round for dinner again after Papa found out it was you." Emma retorted.  
Elijah just gave her a wicked grin in response. To hold back whatever remark he was about to make, Emma said,"Besides, this is risky enough. WHat if one of the guests later inquires after the sick child and my visit?"  
"It's perfectly within my power to make the children and their nurses give favourable responses."  
"You shouldn't control their minds that way." Emma admonished.  
"You are perfectly angelic." He replied, taking her hand. "I shall consider it my mission to corrupt you." He kissed it.  
It was pointless to argue with him, so instead she inquired as to their eventual destination.  
"Have you ever gone sailing by moonlight, Emma?"  
"No."  
"Well after tonight you'll no longer be able to say that."

He continued to lead her down towards the river, to the boathouse. It was unlocked, but Emma knew that it probably had been before Elijah approached.  
"I'm not exactly dressed for the occassion." Emma said, indicating her cocktail dress.  
"There are clothes in the boathouse, you can change while I rig this up" he said, indicating the sailboat he evidently intended to commandeer.  
"Alright..but no looking."  
Elijah was instantly serious.  
"Emma, you know I would never take advantage of you that way."  
Emma's head was spinning a bit at the abrubt end to the playfullness. She hadn't thought it too unfounded a worry; Elijah could have watched her without even peeking in the window.  
"Well, I guess...but I also know to be careful with you."  
"I care for you too deeply to ever use my abilities on you, or even force you through more mundane means. Trust that."  
"You know I trust you, 'Lijah." she said, using her affectionate version of his name. No one else would have dared to give the Vampire Prince a nickname, but Emma had never been concerned with titles.

Elijah smiled, satisfied with her answer.  
"Go, get yourself changed."

Emma went into the boathouse, and came out some minutes later clad in some long white bermuda shorts and her navy blue bikini top. She didn't bother to ask how he had gotten her clothes. He wasn't above breaking and entering, even if he was welcome in her home.

"Are we ready?" Elijah asked, looking up from fastening the outhaul. When he caught sight of Emma walking down the dock, he was struck, as he was occassionally, by how well she had grown up, as he had known she would.  
Now would be the perfect age to turn her.. he thought with a sigh.

Emma reached the sailboat's dock slip, and noticed Elijah's perusal of her form from the boat and blushed. A human couldn't have known that, dark as it was, but Elijah could hear her heartbeat race and sense her face heating up. Emma was aware of that, but it only caused her to blush more. This was a cycle she was frequently entrapped in around him.

Still, she hopped on board their chosen vessel, the Leda.  
"We are in such trouble if we're caught; this is Count Loflin's boat."  
"Not at all, the dear Count owes me a favor or five."  
"We'll have to hope that his debt to you is more powerful than his dislike of my father..."  
"I have no doubt that it is."  
Emma was intensely curious as to the nature of the debt, but Elijah was always an enigma, and she was unlikely to get a straight answer.

"What's our course, Captain?" Emma asked, with only a touch of sarcasm.  
"Up the river a-ways, then to a secret spot."  
"How am I supposed to navigate then?"  
"You can't. You can, however, just relax."

Pouting a bit, Emma did as she was told, and crossed the length of the yacht to lie down on the bow. The stars were beautiful, and soon the sailboat was clipping along well enough to produce a gentle rocking, like a cradle. Eventually, Emma was completely oblivious to everything except that rocking, and the warm breeze that tickled her bare stomach and legs. She didn't realize that Elijah was taking advantage of her half-slumber to gaze at her at his leisure, thinking to himself how very lucky he was...


	2. Chapter 2

The sailboat came up on a large grotto, empty of occupants save themselves and the wildlife. It was very secluded; if Elijah hadn't known his destination and been blessed with keen night-vision, he would not have found the entrance. It seemed unlikely that they would be caught.

"What are we doing here, 'Lijah?" Emma asked, a bit apprehensive.

"Watch."  
Elijah looked to the canopy of trees that formed the grotto's ceiling. Reaching out, his hand moved as though he were pushing the branches away. So many feet above his head, the tree limbs did just that, though no hand had touched them. The opening created a whole that exactly lined up with the moon, whose light now shone into the previously dark grotto. As the moonlight touched the water, the life below it began to glow!  
To her amazement, Emma looked down to see underwater plants glowing pinks and blues, while fish emitted green and yellow sparks of light as they darted about in the clear water.  
"It's called lunarluminescence. I made it for you."  
"It's wonderful...amazing...wait - you MADE this?"  
"For you."  
Emma was flustered by the magnitude of his gift, and by his intense expression.  
"Thank you, 'Lijah. I don't know what to say..."  
"Say you like it."  
"You know I do. Can we swim in it?"  
"As long as you don't mind glowing a bit yourself. The water is charmed to illuminate ALL living things."  
"What color will I be?"  
"I'm not sure...Jump in and find out."  
With a grin, Emma gracefully dove off the port side of the boat, scattering a school of tiny fish nearby. Elijah quickly removed his shirt and followed her.

When they had both emerged, Elijah could see that Emma was now glowing the most lovely silvery-blue color he could imagine.  
"It suits you." he said.  
"Why aren't you glowing?" Emma asked by way of reply.  
"The water only illuminates the living, love." he replied, with a wistful tone to his voice. Emma couldn't think of a reply to that; her friend was in a strange mood tonight. Instead, she dove under and swam quickly away, inviting him to give chase. He did, and with his supernatural talents and her glowing, it took less than three seconds for him to grab her ankle and pull her under.

Elijah came up before her, but when she finally emerged she was coughing and spluttering, trying to catch a breath. Even more quickly than he had caught her the first time, he grabbed her waist to save her the effort of treading water whilst she regained her breath. A few coughs and gasps later, she had calmed down enough to say, "It always surprises me how quick you are."  
"Even after I had just reminded you that I'm not human?"  
She laughed a bit, shakily.  
"You don't seem dead to me." she whispered.  
A long moment passed, and the two stared at each other, his hands still holding her waist.  
"Well I'm not exactly that either, am I?" Elijah said, restoring the light mood.  
Giggling, Emma acquiesced. "No, not exactly that either."

Just then, she heard a rustle in somewhere in the trees.  
"What was that?" She asked, expecting Elijah to identify some forest creature by smell.  
It came as a surprise, then, when he stiffened, then in a flash reached out to grab her shoulders and head and push her under the water, almost before she had time to take a breath. The next instant, she felt his body press against hers, and the next thing she knew they were standing on the deck of their commandeered vessel, with Elijah holding her up.  
"What the hell, 'Lij-"  
Elijah was looking around, tense and alert. Everything happened very quickly for him then. To their right, he heard the "twang" of an arrow being released. It was too quiet for Emma to hear, but to Elijah it sounded like a death toll. Not for him, of course, but for his young and vulnerable accomplice.  
Emma had staggered away from him a bit, just out of his immediate reach.  
"Down!" he shouted.  
A lone arrow pierced the sail and lodged just above their heads on the quarterdeck. Elijah lunged out then, hearing more arrows coming, intending to tackle her, albeit gently, to the relative safety of the ground, as well as provide the protection of his immortal body. If she had not been there, he would have fought and killed the hidden archers in two minutes flat, but he had a responsibility to protect Emma, not to mention a personal interest in her well-being...

A volley of arrows rang out, clattering on deck and splashing in the water. Or at least, most of them did. One lodged itself in Elijah's back, piercing all the way through to his stomach.  
"Elijah!" Emma whisper-screamed.  
"I'm alright love, shhh..."  
"'Lijah..."  
"Emma, I'm alright, I promise you. They were nowhere near my heart."  
"Well I'm very glad that you're alright, but you're crushing me."  
"O, sorry." he murmured as he shifted more of his weight to his arms, on either side of her head. He always had trouble judging exactly how fragile she was in comparison to him.

After the first volley, no more came. A moment later, the two heard a strong male voice call out, "By order of the Palace, show yourselves!"  
Elijah considered for a moment, abruptly exasperated that these stupid soldiers were attacking the people they were bound to protect. Nevertheless, he ordered Emma to stay silent, and helped them both stand up, the arrow still sticking out of his back.

"We're FROM the palace." Elijah called out.  
"And who might you be?" the soldier asked.  
"I'm Elijah Hunter, Vampire Prince and Ambassador."  
"And who's the young lady? Your dinner?"  
"HOW DARE YOU?!" Emma shrieked from behind Elijah.  
"Emma - " Elijah warned. "I'd rather not get shot again."  
"He would never - " she continued.  
"This is Emma Kingston, Ambassador Kingston's daughter."  
"Emma Kingston?" the soldier asked, incredulous.  
"Yes."  
"Well there's a search party out for her as well. One for the boat, and one for the girl." The soldier was much friendlier now, he seemed to take their word for their identities.  
"We'll need to escort you in, ya understand?" the soldier asked.  
"Of course." Elijah replied.

He turned to Emma, and noticed a small cut on her stomach was bleeding. She apparently didn't notice. The arrow that was still piercing his body must have sliced her stomach when he was laying on top of her. He would heal her, but he needed to get the arrow out of his torso first.

Grimacing, he reached around towards his back, and pushed the arrow further through his body, so that the tip was completely visible on the other side. He broke the arrow head off, then reached behind again to tug the shaft out in one quick gesture, with minimal expression of pain. The holes healed up almost immediately. Around him, soldiers were boarding the boat to take over command.

"Come here, Emma."  
"What?"  
"Your stomach. My arrow cut it."  
"Oh! I didn't even notice. I was so distracted.."  
"Here." Elijah said. He reached out to wipe the blood that had dripped away, then pressed his palm to the wound. A second later, he removed his hand and the skin was as good as new. Elijah went to sit on the edge of the boat, and Emma followed.  
"I'm sorry, love. This was supposed to be fun."  
"Well it was exciting, if nothing else. And the water was beautiful. After this is sorted out, can we go back?" Emma asked with growing excitement.  
"The magic will wear off after tonight."  
Elijah saw her face fall a bit, and added, "But if you like, love, I'll do it again." He was rewarded with her dazzling smile.


	3. Chapter 3

Before long some of the soldiers that had been shooting at them moments before were boarding the sailboat while Emma and Elijah sat on the deck. It didn't take long to arrive back at the Court and be escorted to Emma's father's business parlor.

Ambassador Kingston looked surprised at their appearance; after all, they were still wet. The other emotion on his face was undoubtedly anger.

"Emma, what on Earth were you thinking?"

"Papa, it was just fun, we just...borrowed the boat – "  
"Without permission."

"Well, yes, but –"

"I'll deal with you later. Johnson, Kubrick, please escort my daughter to her room."

"I don't need guards, Papa." Emma said, exasperated.

"Fine, just go. I need to speak to Elijah."  
Emma hmmphed, but turned on her heel to go. However, she had no intention of missing what her father was about to say to Elijah. She stationed herself outside the parlor doors to be sure that her father didn't yell at him or anything, and fully intending to intervene if he did.

"Elijah..." said her father's voice.

"I'm sorry sir; I didn't realize how out of hand this would get."

"You've put me in a very awkward position, politically and personally. Count Loflin and I do not get on as it is, and now Emma, my daughter, has stolen his boat!"

"The stealing was all me, sir. She tried to talk me out of it. I will apologize to Loflin myself, and make sure that he holds neither you nor Emma responsible."

"See that you do. The other issue is you and Emma. I like you very much Elijah, you know this, and I've trusted Emma's future to you. But how can I expect you to take care of her forever if you cannot stay out of trouble for one single night!? I will not give her hand to a man, or vampire, that she would not be safe with."

In the hallway, Emma almost passed out. Instead, she pressed her back against the wall and sank down, listening desperately to hear something to contradict what she had just heard.

"You must know I would not let any harm come to her." Elijah's conscience flinched as he remembered the small cut on her stomach.

"But what about next time when the soldiers have better aim?"

"There won't be a next time, sir. And I was fully prepared to take an arrow or two or a dozen for your daughter." No need to mention that he already had. Ambassador Kingston could not doubt the truth of his words, every syllable expressed absolute sincerity.

"Elijah, I believe you meant no harm with this evening's escapades. But I need you to know that if I ever feel that you would not be a suitable husband for Emma, I will break off this betrothal, regardless of how long it has been planned and how angry our governments will be."  
"That won't be necessary, sir."  
"I hope not. Well then...I suggest that you go change and make amends with Count Loflin, for all of us."

"Yes, sir, thank you."

Elijah exited the room, feeling that it hadn't gone too badly, considering. As he turned to close the double doors behind him, he was aware of someone gasping for breath on his left. He looked, expecting a palace runner out of breath, but instead found Emma, slouched against the wall and looking straight ahead, unseeing and terrified, tears running down her face. Despair and embarrassment and relief coursed through him. She had heard. 


	4. Chapter 4

Elijah immediately knelt down in front of her, instinctively reaching out to hold her. But when he approached, she flinched back against the wall, finally focusing on him wih her eyes. She looked stunned and panicked.

"Tell me you were lying. Tell me you were joking...that it wasn't true."

"I can't do that Emma." he said solemnly.

A sharp intake of breath, like she had been stabbed, echoed in the empty hallway.

"How long?" she whispered.

"What?"

"My father said he didn't care how long...this...had been arranged...HOW LONG?"

"Since before you were born."

Another stabbing gap escaped, but then her expression changed. She was no longer panicked, but angry and hurt.

"You watched me grow up for 14 years, and you never thought to mention this?"

"Your father, your King, and I decided not to tell you until you were 18."

"What does the King have to do with this?"

"500 years ago, the King of Belleterra and my father, the Vampire King, decided that to tie the two kingdoms together in a show of solidarity, I would marry the Princess of Belleterra. But I didn't love her, so I told your king at the time and my father that I would wait until I found a princess that I would fall in love with. I kept your kingdom waiting for 500 years, until you and your family came to Trenala. I saw you, I could sense what you would become and I knew that it had to be you. Our marriage has been arranged from your first week here."

A long silence followed as Emma absorbed that, and then she asked, "Who else knows?"

"Your mother, your governess, the Royal family here, and the Vampire Kingdom."  
"So everyone except me?"

"No, that's not –"  
"Yes, Elijah, that is it. Did you think that just because you were my friend it wouldn't be so bad? Or did you expect me to be happy?"

"You weren't supposed to find out this way." he murmured.

"So you were just going to sit me down in a room full of old, royal men and tell me so that I couldn't go to pieces? Force me to accept for discretion's sake?"

"No, I – "  
"Well I won't. I won't marry you."  
As she said those words aloud, something occurred to her.

"We couldn't anyway..." she said slowly, "You're immortal, and I'm human..."

Elijah didn't know what to do. He couldn't lie to her, but telling her would surely send her over the edge.

"I would turn you." He said quietly, looking at the round.

To his surprise there was no answer, no yelling, so he looked up to make sure that Emma hadn't fainted or something. Instead she looked murderous.

"Leave. Now."  
"Emma, please – "  
Her expression faltered, and she looked dangerously close to tears again.

"Elijah, please just go."

He reluctantly stood up and walked backwards out of the hall, the two of them watching each other the whole way. When he reached the doors, he turned around and left. That was when Emma ran to her room, sobbing.

Several days went by, and Emma had not seen Elijah since that night. She had, however, been forced to speak with her father and mother, as well as received letters from the Kings of Belleterra and Mesana. Everyone said the same thing: they were sorry that she was upset, but she really had no choice in the matter. All of them also expressed their confidence in Elijah's love for her, but Emma was hardly in a mood to believe them.

She was sitting on her bed, holding a pillow to her chest, like she had been for most of the night. Her betrothal was causing her chronic insomnia. She knew that she needed to sleep, not to mention eat, but she couldn't break the catatonia that had set in.

That is until Elijah walked into her room. He took in her appearance; the dark shadows and gaunt face that he (correctly) assumed meant that she hadn't left her room for far too long. Before speaking a word, he strode over to a rope pull on the wall and tugged twice, calling a maid.

"I'm not hungry." Emma said, watching him.

"Well maybe I am." Elijah replied.

Emma made a face and almost laughed, but quickly resumed her angry countenance.

"Did you need something?"

"We need to talk."  
"I don't really want to talk to you at the moment."  
Ignoring that jibe, Elijah said calmly, "Well I want to talk to you then."  
"I think you get entirely too much of what you want."  
Elijah wasn't used to her talking back to him like that; it was kind of cute.

"You're right. But I happen to know that your father is in the room next door, and I'm willing to bet that you'd rather listen to me than see him."  
Emma just glared, but he took it as consent.

"Love, I'm so incredibly sorry that you found out that way, and I'm even sorrier that we kept it from you in the first place. It's obvious now that it was a mistake. I feel beyond horrendous that I've betrayed your rust, but you have to know...I do love you, Emma." He said it with such emotion and conviction that only someone determined to hold a grudge would not have believed him. Someone like Emma.

He could see that he wasn't getting through, but Elijah kept talking anyway. "I waited 500 years for the right girl, Emma. If I wasn't in love with you from the moment I saw who you would be, I wouldn't have chosen you."

"What about my choice, Elijah?"

At this he was a little taken aback. In reality, it had never occurred to him that Emma wouldn't consent to marry him. Whenever he had pictured their life together, she was always just as in love with him as he was with her. He had simply never considered the possibility that his love might be unrequited. But for now, he said, "I wouldn't force you, if that's really how you feel..."  
"I don't know how I feel! It's rather disconcerting to find out that your life has been planned out without your consultation or consent."

"So...it's not marriage to me that disgusts you, it's the fact that no one asked you?"

"That's not what I said."  
"But is it what you meant?"

Emma was abruptly furious with him for joking around when she was so upset.

"Why don't you just read my thoughts and find out?! And while you're there, why don't you just make me say yes?!" It was a vicious thing to do, Emma knew that he would be offended by her lack of trust in their most basic understanding, but she did it anyway.

However, Elijah surprised her by saying quite calmly, "You don't believe that I would do that. You're upset, and I'm trying to apologize, but you are behaving as a child. We'll talk when you aren't delirious with hunger and sleep deprivation on top of your anger."

As he walked to the door and opened it, a frightened looking maid appeared in the opening with a tray of what was presumably food. Pausing a moment in the doorway, Elijah murmured, "Make sure she actually eats it." before continuing out. Emma just glared at his back from her place on the bed, from which she had not moved during the entire conversation.


	5. Chapter 5

_Hi guys! I hope you're enjoying the story so far, I know that I like writing it. Reviews are greatly appreciated!_

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2 weeks later, Emma had finally left her room and returned to the pattern of her days, except for the parts that involved Elijah. She hadn't seen him since that day in her room. If she was honest with herself, she missed him. It wasn't that she had forgiven him, or even that she still liked him, but more and more she was realizing that she had lived her life for those escapades. He was her best friend, something to break the monotony of Court life.

For now though, she was spending inordinate amounts of time in the nursery with the children. But even they picked up on her mood, and a few of the older ones even guessed at its cause.

"Why doesn't Elijah Hunter come to play with us anymore?" a small girl named Claire asked.

"Elijah has been very busy." Emma replied as calmly as she could.

"With what?" they persisted with typical childlike tenacity.

"He's a prince and an ambassador, I'm sure he has a lot of business to take care of."  
"But he'll come back, right?"

"Maybe. If he does come back, I may have to find myself suddenly busy as well." The last part was meant to be under her breath, but children have amazing hearing, especially for things they aren't meant to hear.

"Why can't you both play? Are you fighting? Why?"

Through the din of questions and wide, worried eyes, Emma could see the children's nurses and nannies perking up their ears and casually inching closer, obviously hoping to hear a piece of gossip to spread around. She had been aware of curious eyes and ears during the past few days since her reappearance; some measure of information had definitely been leaked. But how much, or who has spread it, was a mystery. No one discusses gossip with its subject.

"No, we aren't arguing." It was mostly true...Elijah wasn't really arguing his point, it was more of a one-sided opposition.

"I'm sorry guys, I have to meet some boring old men for lunch." Emma lied as she made her bid for escape.  
"If you see Elijah, tell him to finish his work really fast."

"I will, Claire." she lied in response.

Emma left the nursery as quickly as possible, and with nowhere else to be or go, she walked across the sloping lawns and wide courtyards to get to the stables. She asked the grooms to ready her favorite horse, a stallion called Renegade. She also had a message runner sent to her family, telling them not to expect her for dinner. She readied a pack with food and extra layers in case it got cold out, then changed into the riding clothes she kept in the stables. By the time she had finished, Renegade was ready, and within a minute they were off.

Emma's path began on a trail, but soon branched off into the woods. She was headed towards a small clearing she knew well. When she got there, she dismounted and left Renegade to graze while she lied down in the middle of the clearing, and got lost in her own thoughts. She had meant for her excursion to be an escape from Elijah, but her bain would not think of anything else. It seemed obvious now; the way she had never seen him with another woman, even though plenty were vying for his attentions and vampires usually had considerable sexual appetites (this thought caused a whole tidal wave of others that she tried desperately to repress). She remembered back to her only flirtation, a son of some visiting Lord, and how Elijah had hovered so menacingly that the boy was frightened away before he could so much as hold her hand. She could even now recal those moments when he would look at her in that way she had always dismissed as merely strange, now she realized it was love.

But how could he love her? It was so difficult to reassign his affection as love. She didn't understand how he had arbitrarily decided that she was the one he would spend his eternal life with. Furthermore, she hardly considered a secret betrothal a gesture of romance. And there was still the possibility that his love was not romantic at all. Maybe he was just trying to appease the diplomatic factions. Emma's head continued to whirl in these endless circles of question and doubt as time passed without her notice.

When she awoke from her reverie, it was well past dark, but Emma had no intention of returning just yet. Instead, she got out the blankets and food to lie down against Renegade, who had taken a nap, to eat her dinner. She finished quickly, and then decided she really ought to return home. She got Renegade up, mounted him, and began to ride out into the clearing. As they passed under a large oak tree, a flock of birds that had evidently been roosting there all flew away at once. Renegade, usually a calm and steady mount, spooked, rearing up on his two hind legs and throwing Emma from the saddle. She landed hard with her hands out to break her fall, and felt a sickening crunch and pain radiate from her wrist all the way up her arm. A few moments of dizzying pain later, and all of Emma's thoughts centered around one goal: getting home. Renegade had luckily not left her, in fact, he was nudging her with side as if to express his remorse and encouragement. Through the blinding pain of her broken wrist, Emma stood up and tried to remount her horse. However, she could not pull herself up sufficiently with only one arm, and had to resign herself to a long trip home on foot.

Leading Renegade by the reins she began her trek. She realized that she was not as upset as she probably ought to be about a broken wrist, which was by now swollen and bruised looking. At first, she didn't know why, but eventually she realized that she had been unconsciously expecting Elijah to come along and fix it. He had always healed her injuries, big and small. That wouldn't happen this time. Emma's tears started afresh. It wasn't that he wouldn't offer, or even insist, but this time, Emma couldn't let him. She had to learn to heal on her own.


	6. Chapter 6

4 hours later, Emma returned home to an empty apartment. This presented a dilemma; on one hand all she wanted was to find a painkiller and go to sleep, but on the other her parents were probably out looking for her, or thinking that she had run away. She settled on a compromise, she would call a doctor from the suite, and he would inevitably alert her parents while providing the painkillers and ace bandages she desired.

Within minutes of summoning the doctor, the apartment was no longer empty; it was positively bustling with frantic activity. Apparently more searches had been organized for her than Emma would have believed possible in such a short time period.

Tired of listening to her father worrying alternately at her and at the doctor, and the doctor constantly murmuring how lucky she was that the bone had not been out of place, Emma began drifting in her own mind. Her eyes glazed over as she stared blankly at the door across from the ottoman she was sitting on. She wasn't expecting it to open, and she certainly wasn't expecting Elijah Hunter to walk in. But of course that's what happened.

"Here you are Elijah, you seem to have been the last one to get the message, of course you can cover considerably more territory than our other searchers." Emma's father said upon Elijah's entry.

"Yes, I was rather far out. It took the sentries awhile to relay the message all the way out there." he replied, never taking his eyes off Emma.

"You were looking for me?" she asked him quietly.

Everyone else in the room got quiet, but pretended to still be involved in their individual pursuits.

"Of course I was. I thought you were hurt or lost."

"I am hurt." Emma's eyes indicated that it was more than just her wrist that was bothering her. A long moment passed, and the two stared at each other over the head of the doctor kneeling in front of Emma. Finally Elijah spoke up, addressing Ambassador Kingston and various eavesdroppers "I think Emma is probably exhausted, perhaps she should be allowed to go to bed, sir."  
"Yes, yes, that's quite in order. Emma, let the doctor finish wrapping that up and then get to bed."  
Emma silently implied consent, not that her distracted father noticed very much. After the doctor finished, Emma stood up and was abruptly dizzy, swaying on the spot. Elijah was there immediately to grab her elbow and steady her. At one time he would have seized the opportunity to hold her close, perhaps grabbing her waist, but under the circumstances...At any rate, he began steering her by that elbow towards her bedchambers. Emma assumed that her father was too busy dismissing searchers to notice Elijah exit with her.

Emma's legs felt like runny gelatin, and she was barely conscious for exhaustion. She hardly noticed when Elijah scooped her up into his arms and carried her for the rest of the way as easily as if she were a small mail parcel. It certainly didn't occur to her to protest a free lift when she was so incredibly tired, which was what Elijah was counting on.

Opening the double doors with his foot, Elijah walked across Emma's spacious bedroom and laid her down gently on the bed. Emma was ¾ asleep when he pulled her covers up and tucked her in, careful not to disturb her bandaged arm, now in a makeshift cast. However, he must have jarred her slightly, because suddenly Emma's big brown eyes were staring up at him. She looked so worn, so sad and worried, her lower lip almost trembling.

"I don't want to marry you." she said softly.

"I know." he murmured back.

"I want you to know, though, that it isn't that you're vile or anything, you've been my friend, and I-"

"I know, but you should sleep now." Elijah had expected her to fall asleep immediately, but the conversation had rejuvenated Emma's consciousness.

"I'm scared, 'Lijah. I don't think I'm allowed to say no, but I don't think I can say yes either."  
"Emma...nothing I told you before all of this was a lie. No matter what anyone else says, I will always give you a choice. But...would you wait awhile before you make it? Would you do that, for me?"

Emma stared back at him, searching his eyes and face for something...perhaps she didn't even know what. "Alright." she sighed, sat up in the bed, then continued, "I wish it didn't have to be like this. I wish you could still be my friend. I miss talking to you; if it were any other man that I was suddenly engaged to I know that wed talk and you'd listen and let me cry...but we can't do that anymore."

Elijah reached across the blankets and gathered both of her hands in his. "I will always be your friend, no matter what else we are."

At this, Emma began to cry, silent perfect tears rolling down her pale cheeks. And softly, so softly, Elijah freed one of his hands to reach to her face and brush them away. To his surprise, she didn't flinch away from his touch, but rather turned her face into it. Encouraged, he freed his other hand and pulled her into a hug, he hands now holding her waist and stroking her hair as she wound her arms around his middle and clung to him. It was a bittersweet moment for Elijah; it was his fault that she was crying, but he was holding her close and she was holding him back. He pulled her closer again, this time so that she was sitting on his lap in a more comfortable position. Again, Emma didn't protest, just clung even more tightly to him.

"Shhhh...Shhhh, love...It will be alright."  
Finally, after an immeasurable amount of time, her soft sobs ceased, and her breathing became even once more. Reluctant to let go of her, but knowing that one or both of her parents would eventually come in to check on her, he tilted her away from his body, cradling her head in the crook of his shoulder, and saw that she had indeed fallen asleep. Smiling to himself, he drew her close again and pressed his cold lips to her forehead. He stood up, carrying her sleeping form, only to tuck her into the bed for the second time that night. He was halfway across the room before he turned back to kiss her again, this time on her cheek. As she sighed in her sleep, he was tempted by the vision of falling asleep and waking up next to her for the rest of their eternity. Now though, he couldn't be certain of his fate. He would have to win Emma's love properly before he allowed himself to hope.


	7. Chapter 7

Emma awoke the next morning from the best sleep she'd had in weeks. As she stretched she smiled to herself, the after effects of pleasant dreams. Eventually, she got out of her bed and changed into a pleated skirt and sweater set. She had yet to pull on her ballet flats wehn a messenger knocked on the parlor door and delivered a note for her. It read:

If you're feeling up to it, why don't you meet me for lunch in the Old Cross Courtyard in our usual spot?

E.

P.S. I'll even promise to return you in time for supper.

Emma smiled, and looked at the grandfather clock in the corner. It was almost eleven o'clock, so she had to get going. Stopping only to leave word with a servant that she was going out, Emma left her apartments and made her way across the grounds. However, once she was on her way it was hard to maintain her hurried pace, because she was frequently stopped by anxious courtiers inquiring after her health and safety, voicing their concern and hopes for a speedy recovery. Emma knew that they only noticed because they had been hearing a mixture of truth and gossip and were dying to know the truth, hoping to steal some from her own lips. The pointless character of their nosy questions only agitated Emma further, and the usually gracious and polite Emma was rather curt to the last Earl who professed his "deep concern" over last night's ordeal. By the time she made it to the Courtyard, Elijah was already there, standing in the shade of a tree and obviously waiting for her.

"You're late." he noted by way of greeting.

"Concerned courtiers are impossible to shake off."

"You can thank your father for that; he had half of Court out looking for you last night."

"But I wasn't lost or badly hurt; no one seems to understand that."

"The cast on your wrist says otherwise."  
"Speaking of that...I was surprised that you didn't find me, since you were looking. You could have smelled me even without the cut on my hand." She held up her hand where the thin slice on her palm was already beginning to heal. Elijah reached out and caught it before she could lower it, and three seconds and some blue light later, not even a scar remained.

"You didn't have to do that." Emma stated shyly.

"Habit." he replied. And it was. Their history together was long.

"Anyway..." Emma prompted.

"I was actually being rather idiotic. I immediately thought that you were trying to run away, so I took off up the river, so I was going in completely the wrong direction and I was upwind of you. All because I panicked."

"Oh." Emma couldn't think of a response to that, so she simply sank down to the soft grass and started pulling up blades. Elijah followed suit, but he was staring not at the ground, but at her face.

"Emma, I wanted to talk to you about last night, about all of this."

Emma sighed, "I suppose we have to, don't we?"

"You said last night that it wasn't me that you were so repulsed by, and I'm incredibly glad of that, but I need you to tell me what it is that you are repulsed by, so that I can try to make it better."  
"It's the fact that I wasn't told. You let me dream and think that I could make my own future, but all the while you and a bunch of old men were planning it for me. That, and the fact that I'll be _married_, which I don't know the first thing about. But I can't ask anyone about that, because that would imply my consent."

"You've been thinking about this." Elijah remarked.  
"Did you expect anything else? I've been thinking about you entirely too much; that's why I was in the woods to begin with."

"You've been thinking about me, huh?" Elijah said slyly.

"Don't flatter yourself, it wasn't all nice."

"Well...I think the solution to your first problem is to simply believe me when I say that I'm sorry we handled it badly, that I was trying to do what I thought was best, and that I'm sorry that I was wrong. Then you need to forgive me for it. As powerful as I am I cannot change the past, so we can't move forward if you don't forgive me. It won't be immediate of course, but you will have to forgive me eventually. Holding a grudge has a remarkable souring effect on a person, and I'd hate to see you sour."

Emma simply stared at him with raised eyebrows.

"As for your other problem, I'm sure you know more than you think you do. Your parents are married after all."

"And they're a fantastic example." Emma retorted sarcastically.

"Well then I should remind you that I've never been married before either, so we're rather equals in that respect."

"But you're inarguably more...experienced...than I am. My parents marriage is purely diplomatic, and I'm not sure to what extent ours might be, and since you're, well, you, I'm not convinced that any normal rules apply here. I feel so incredibly ignorant about the whole thing, like there are some secret rules that no one will tell me about."

"I'll tell you if you ask."

"Do I have to do your laundry? Cook for you? That seems a little irrelevant, but you get the idea? Do we have to be together all the time? Do we share a room? Where would we _live_? Why do I have to become a vampire? What would marriage to you make me, in a political sense? What – "  
"Slow down, I won't remember it all."  
"Well you'd better start with those then."

"You are not my servant, nor does becoming my wife make you one. You would most certainly not cook or clean for me. We would share a room, and a bed. We can live wherever you like, anywhere in the world. We are allowed, even expected, to be apart sometimes. Since you would be marrying into my family, you would become a Princess, but it's just a decoration since the King will never die. My father will reign for another 1000 years, and then we might decide whether to shoulder the responsibility or not. How's that for now?"

"You skipped a question."


	8. Chapter 8

Elijah sighed, and took the moment to sit up from where they had been laying in the grass, and looked at Emma seriously. "I would turn you because I love you, and having to live without you after one lifetime together would be unimaginable torture."

Emma was moved by his words, but still skeptical.

"I still don't understand how you can know that."

"Know what?"

"That you love me."

"Because I know you. Vampires can sense peoples'...souls, for lack of a better word, their character traits are like flavors to us. It's how we choose our food...and our mates. I could tell that you're smart, witty, charming, charismatic, and loving before you were any of those things. I could also tell that you're timid, indecisive, maybe even spoiled and naive, but I love you anyway, even because of those things."

After taking all of that in for a moment, Emma recovered enough to say, "That's so strange..."

"What?"  
"I never thought that you had any sort of real attachment to anyone besides your kingdom. I mean, how can you? Anyone who isn't immortal just passes through your life for what must seem like a fraction of a second to you. How can you form any significant bond over so little time? I never deluded myself into thinking that I was special to you, but now apparently I was..."  
"Not as naive as I thought." Elijah chuckled darkly. "It isn't easy, and sometimes it does feel that way, but when you have something to live for...it keeps you alive and puts time back in a shorter perspective. That's always how I've felt about you."

"But what about the times in between? You give up so much, and for what? Don't you miss – well- being _human_?"

"Sometimes. But there are compensations. Like time; I have unlimited quantities of that, so the only limit on what I can do with my life is my own creativity. I've traveled, studied, worked, everything, and I'm still not done with those things. And...my abilities can help people, I can heal them, save them, even. The strength and agility have their advantages as well."

As Elijah scrutinized Emma's face for her reaction, he was surprised by what he saw. Instead of being reassured by his speech, as he had meant her to be, Emma suddenly looked suspicious and bitter, with a trace of the anger that Elijah had thought they were done with.

"That sounds like a sales pitch." she practically spat.

"I just want you to understand that I could provide for you. You would be safe, happy." His tone was calm and reasonable, though he was privately panicking at the sour turn their conversation had taken. Unfortunately, Emma did not react in kind.

"Do you really think so little of me? Do you think that I'd marry for security? Do you think that's what this has been about?" Her scathing tone was enough to finally provoke Elijah.

"Well you won't seem to believe that I love you! I don't know how else to convince you!" he very nearly shouted.  
"I don't want to be convinced! I want to decide on my own!"  
"We're past that now. Anything I say to you, you'll think it's a 'sales pitch.'"

"You asked me what I want, and I told you."

"Well what you want is impossible. You'll either learn to love me or you won't. But you'll have plenty of time to do it. The reason I asked you to come here today was to tell you that we're leaving in a few days, together with your parents and the entourage." Elijah had originally intended to break this news gently, but his frustration had gotten the better of his temper.

"WHAT?!"  
"That's right. We're going to visit your home Court...and mine. No more avoiding me, Emma."

Thanks to the couple of you who reviewed and/or messaged (you know who you are)! I _really_ appreciate it, it helps keep me motivated and helps stop the vicious cycle that is procrastination. The next couple weeks are going to be really crazy with exams and whatnot, but feedback might just provide enough of a kick-in-the-ass to get the next few chapters up. Also, anyone with ideas for the story (plot, format, whatever) should definitely message me, I'd love to hear them!


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you to everyone who rated and/or messaged! I really appreciate your feedback, and suggestions and criticisms are always welcome. I probably won't be able to update until the weekend, but I promise I will update eventually. Exam season is just crazy. That's not to say that I couldn't use a little motivation, so keep it coming guys! Thanks so much, and enjoy! 3**

Standing there staring after Elijah's retreating back wasn't doing Emma any good, but that's what she did for several moments (minutes? hours?) after he gave her a final glare and then turned briskly on his heel. Eventually her temporary mental paralysis wore off, and Emma ran back to her apartments, looking for her parents to ask them what the bloody hell Elijah was talking about. As usual, they weren't there, but a quick question and a smile to her father's aide, Quinn, later she knew that they were having tea with some visiting dignitaries in the guest apartments just across the courtyard. A few moments ago Emma had been angry enough to have burst into their meeting and demanded immediate explanation, but further reflection led her to the conclusion that that course of action would only get her into trouble and embarrass her parents, who would probably make her go on this ridiculous trip, if indeed such plans existed.

This revelation didn't mean that Emma was giving up her quest to find out if her parents had been planning this trip behind her back; she had merely decided that her time and effort would be far better spent by snooping through their papers. Her mother's parlor was obviously useless; she entertained too often to leave important documentation or personal letters lying around. Her father's offices, a veritable mine of useful information, although usually locked, were easy enough to break into, but Quinn was sure to notice any lock-picking and ask her about it, or worse tell her father. Emma quickly and haphazardly formed a plan.

"Quinn?"

"Yes Miss?"

"I know that you aren't _my_ aide, but I was wondering if you could help me with something. My father mentioned to me awhile ago the title of a book he'd wanted, and I want to get it for him for his birthday, but I need to make sure that he hasn't already gotten it for himself. Do you think you could let me into his office to check that it isn't already on his shelves?"

"I think that'd be alright, Miss. But isn't your father's birthday not for a few months?"

"O, well, yes, but I'd have to order the book and then get it dedicated at the calligrapher's and I'm afraid it might take awhile..."

"Of course, Miss. Here you are." As Quinn unlocked the office doors and opened one, ushering her in, he gave her a conspiratorial wink, as though he knew what she was up to.

"Do you think you might tap on the door or something if he's coming? I just- I mean – I want the book to be a surprise."

"Of course, Miss." And he closed the door behind him, grinning sagely.

"Thank you, Quinn." Emma responded, emphatically. "Thank you for understanding." she added in her head.

As soon as the door clicked shut Emma began rifling carefully through the piles of papers on her father's large mahogany desk. Only petty invitations and notes about household matters were lying in plain sight. Emma cautiously began opening drawers, but she didn't stop to look through any of them. On her fourth try, she found what she was looking for: a locked drawer. Pulling a pin out of her hair, Emma deftly picked the small lock (a skill she had picked up years ago, courtesy of Elijah) and as the tumblers fell into place, she held her breath. The drawer slid open, and there were her father's personal correspondences. Stacks of envelopes each tied with a different color ribbon that she presumed were organized by correspondent filled the large and deep drawer almost to its capacity. Emma was loath to remove too many stacks for fear of being unable to reproduce their order, and her meticulous father was sure to notice any disturbance. Her only hope was that his correspondence with his older brother, her uncle and King, would be at the top of the pile. Suddenly, a dark blue ribbon, the same shade as sealing wax on the envelopes of the stack, caught her eye. The blue was one of the colors of the royal family of Belleterra: her family. These were the letters she was looking for, for they would surely mention an impending trip home!

Emma memorized the position of the stack before deftly removing it and settling herself in her father's desk chair to inspect them. Gently untying the midnight blue ribbon, she unfolded the first letter of the stack.

_Dear Alex,_

_I am so pleased that you accepted our invitation to return from Mesana for a visit home. Of course, your family's rooms have been kept up, you'll find them waiting. The Vampire delegation will be staying nearby in the State Wing, and that has been arranged as well. Although the primary purpose of your visit is official, we must be sure to make time to catch up. I have dearly missed you and your wife, and Emma was only 10 years old the last time I saw her!_

_Of course, the main purpose of this letter is to address the topic of my niece. It has been causing great concern here that Emma has been – apprehensive – about Prince Elijah's suit. Though I do not wish to cause Emma hardship, I need hardly remind you that this alliance is the product of a treaty centuries old, one that must be upheld and will undoubtedly prove very beneficial for us. Military aid from the Vampire nation will be indispensable in the future, and Lord Micah is very anxious for economic privileges in our markets. Both of our nations are growing impatient, and the vampire ambassador here has insinuated that if we are unable to reach an alliance agreement, the Lord Micah may see fit to take what he is after by force. You know that we could not stand up to such an enemy, brother. If with one marriage we may save a million lives, Emma may need to put her duty as a member of the royal family ahead of her heart. Furthermore, if Lord Micah approves of her when she is introduced at the Vampire Court, you and your family may find it very difficult to argue against the marriage. The Vampires are very generous with incentives, and also very liberal with threats. I do believe that he has no ill will towards us, but rather wants to see the interests of his people protected, as do I. Emma would be in excellent hands with Elijah and the Vampire Court. We must make her believe that, if nothing else. _

_I shall see you in a fortnight. I think the best course, for now, is to hope that some measure of respect and affection blooms between your daughter and Prince Elijah before a formal announcement must be made. I know they were great friends once; they may be again._

_Your brother,_

_Michael _

As Emma's eyes scanned the page, she felt a growing sense of dread. Elijah could profess his love all he wanted; she held the truth in her hands. The marriage was to be a political alliance, nothing more. He hadn't been waiting for her, he had simply succumbed to the pressures of Lord Micah, his sire, and her own Uncle!

Just then, a soft _tap! tap!_ on the door warned her that her father was approaching. She quickly redid the ribbon and replaced the stack in the drawer, and fled the room. She had just escaped into her room when she heard Quinn greeting her father and mother in the next room. She sighed; she would deal with them later.


	10. Chapter 10

A few days later

Emma was long used to being woken by servants poking about in her rooms, but none of them had ever actually shaken her awake before.

"I'm sorry miss, but you need to be ready for the coach." her maid, Winnie said gently.

"Winnie," Emma yawned, slightly annoyed, "that coach will wait all day if I don't feel like getting in it. This trip is about me, they aren't going to leave without me."

"I know miss, but your father was most adamant that you dine with him this morning."

That got Emma out of bed; she was flying across the room to her closet before Winnie had finished folding back her bed sheets. She dressed quickly and haphazardly, annoyed that a breakfast with her father meant that she would have to get dressed again later. She simply tugged on a simple sundress and a light sweater before grabbing her ballet flats that she shoved on her feet as she ran down the hall. When she got to the dining room, her father was already at the head of the table, waiting for her, and half finished with his meal. He took one look at her and said, "You might have brushed your hair, Emma, darling."

"Yes well, the servants have already packed my hairbrush." Emma retorted as she sat down and began to help herself to the breakfast spread. It included all of her favorites, which she assumed was her mother's subtle way of trying to put her in a good mood.

"You're a cheeky one, do you know?" her father chuckled back. "But in all seriousness, Emma, we need to talk about something."

Emma sighed, and stopped eating her banana nut muffin. "Here it goes –"

"You are expected to behave yourself on this trip. That includes from the time we get into that coach until two months from now when we return here. There will be no more escape attempts, rifling through people's private papers, and you will be warm and hospitable to everyone who merits it, regardless of your personal whims, is that clear?"

Her father's tone had turned rather stern, and his comment about the private papers had caused her to blush and look down at her plate in shame. There had been quite a row the other day when he had noticed her hair pin on the floor of his office, and had surmised (correctly) the rest. She was solemn when she replied, "Yes, sir."

Her father saw this supplication, and felt a pang for what he had to say next, for it would probably cause her more pain. It seemed that more and more frequently he was being torn between his political obligations and his desire for his only daughter's happiness.

"Emma, when we arrive in Belleterra, you will be entering a different world. Here, your political obligations have been minimal, but at Belleterra, your rank is much higher. When you marry, you will be second in line for the throne, assuming that your Uncle doesn't miraculously produce an heir. People know that you are betrothed to Elijah, but they also know that you have shown yourself adverse to that alliance. There will undoubtedly be a number of young men scheming for your attentions, but I must implore you to ignore them. If you truly do not wish to marry Elijah, it might be possible to work out an alternative, but we must officially terminate the betrothal contract and find an alternate for Elijah before you could safely court another. You must remember that when one is royalty, every action, every comment, every gesture, has political ramifications."

"I know, Dad."

"Good girl." he said, relieved to be done with his speech. "Now eat up, you'll have to dress before Elijah arrives with the coach."

"Elijah is coming in the coach with us?!"

"Of course, darling, did you think he was going to walk?"

"No, I thought he would meet us there, you know, just teleport or something."

"It's not proper etiquette to arrive in that fashion for an official visit."  
"What on earth are we going to do in a coach with him for 2 days?"

"You could try talking to him."

"I have nothing to say to him."  
"Then I assume you'll get an excellent survey of the scenery en route. Now run along and dress properly."

Back in her room, Emma was somewhere between fuming and panic, and could hardly compose herself to put on the dark red boatneck top and nice jeans that Winnie had laid out for her. At her father's suggestion, she pulled her hair back into a messy but cute half ponytail, and was very soon out of things to do in her bedroom. Sighing, she made her way out into the courtyard, bracing herself for a very long day.


	11. Chapter 11

A few hours later

In approximately 5 more minutes, Emma knew she was going to go insane. It wasn't just the stuffy coach that her, her mother and father, and Elijah had been sitting in, not speaking, for almost 6 hours. It was the fact that the silence between them was anything but comfortable. Emma was intensely aware of Elijah's eyes on her face, but she had refused to meet them, instead staring huffily out of the window at the stupendously boring countryside. Equally as awkward was her father, glancing rapidly between her and her vampire suitor. It was all Emma could do to pretend to ignore them, but her patience was wearing thin. In a stiff, sudden movement, she turned to her father and announced, "I'd like to ride for awhile." It was important that she did not ask permission, but phrased her demand in an ambiguous manner that would almost surely get her what she wanted.

"Oh, well – alright I suppose." her father replied, startled out of his focused study of the non-interaction in the coach. He reached over and pulled a cord near the window, signaling the driver to stop. When he did, Emma practically kicked the door out in order to be out of the coach that much more quickly. She picked her favorite mount, Renegade, out of the team of horses on the coach behind them, and was in the saddle and trotting away before the footmen could even converge to unfasten the horse for her. When she passed her family's coach, she silently congratulated herself on having made an escape without having made a scene.

Then someone rode up beside her. Naturally, it was the person – if you could call him a person – she least wanted to see. Elijah. She sighed. Of course. It was just like him to poison her triumph this way. Now that she was already set with Renegade, she could hardly change her mind and go back in the coach, nor could she ask him to leave her alone, not with so many servants around. So Emma simply nodded at him when he rode up beside her.

"You realize you'll have to speak to me at some point, right?" he asked quietly.

"I never said I wasn't speaking to you." Emma retorted, pleased with her half truth/not lie. She never actually _said _she wasn't speaking to him, she just didn't.

"Don't play that game with me, Emma, I taught it to you." Emma's expression soured as she realized he was right.

"Look, I think you should know that when we arrive at Belleterra tomorrow, we're expected to attend a formal dinner."

"Well I have a long history of disappointing people's expectations. You should know that." Emma tried to keep her tone polite even as she uttered words meant to scathe. But, although she didn't like to admit it to herself, she did feel guilt for causing Elijah pain. Although she couldn't/wouldn't love him, he was her friend, and with that friendship there was a desire to make him happy. But in this case, what would make him happy might make her life eternally miserable.

Emma's words hovered in the silence between them. They were too close to the coaches and the servants to speak plainly, so Elijah nudged his mount into a faster trot, knowing his stubborn princess would follow him. When they were far enough away that they would not be overheard, he said, "You never disappointed me, Emma. Ever."

"You expected that I'd be overjoyed to marry you."

"Well, I wouldn't use that word...but yes. I didn't anticipate so much...resentment, but I blame myself for that."

"I know that you think of this whole mess as a tactical error, but I promise that I would have been just as averse to the idea if you'd been able to tell me properly."

"Ah, that's because I didn't have time to work up to it. I didn't plan to tell you until you realized how much you love me." Elijah's roguish grin put Emma in mind of happier times, like swimming in the enchanted grotto. So she didn't sound quite as hostile when she next spoke, after looking over her shoulder for eavesdroppers.

"Elijah, if I ask you a question will you be perfectly honest with me?"

"I think I've learned my lesson about deceiving you."

"That's a yes. Why can't you ever just say that?"

"I wouldn't want to bore you, love."

Elijah was pleased to note that their conversations had relaxed into their old playful banter. He just hoped her question wouldn't put them right back into hostilities again.

Emma took a deep breath before posing her question.

"Hypothetically, if everything had gone according to your plan; if I had fallen in love with you, and accepted your proposal enthusiastically...Were you planning to tell me that it was all part of a political agreement? Or would you have let me wander about in blissful ignorance?"

Emma suddenly found hers and Renegade's path cut off by Elijah, steering his mount in front of them, forcing her to look into his eyes.

"Of course I would have told you." He said with unmistakable sincerity. "I never intended to keep this from you forever, just until you were ready."

Emma seemed to accept that. "At least you respect me that much." she said as Elijah and his mount fell back to her side and continued along at a leisurely pace.

"I do respect you. Actually, it seems like you're the one who has problems respecting people's privacy." he teased her, winking.

"How do you know about that?!" Emma exclaimed, embarrassed at being caught yet again. Elijah didn't even need to answer – Emma knew he would never disclose his "sources" – it was something she had long since accepted about him.

"I just didn't know whether to believe you or not." Emma muttered.

Elijah snickered. "If I had been there, I wouldn't have let you forget the pin."

Emma laughed as well. "Yes, but if you could have been there, I wouldn't have needed to be snooping."

"Haha, true enough. Still, I thought I taught you better than that. Leave everything as you found it –"  
"- leave nothing behind. I was flustered, alright?" She was still smiling, but something told Elijah it was time to back off. Luckily, Emma changed the subject for him.

"So...what exactly does this formal dinner entail?" Elijah breathed a sigh of relief that her tone wasn't antagonistic, like before.

"Well, we'll get dressed up in expensive clothes you can only wear once, eat a few bites of a dinner that the chefs slaved over for hours, and then be entertained in a room where we pretend not to notice the background music provided by a string quartet imported from halfway across the world."

"That sounds awful."

"I was rather thinking that myself. Of course, we've had a very long journey, I'm sure you'll be feeling very tired tomorrow night."

"Yes, I suppose I will." Emma said, smiling, catching on to his plan.

"Oh, but I forgot, you won't be able to retire to your rooms, they won't be ready yet!"

"Of course, they won't be ready until at least midnight, and I probably won't last until 9 o'clock!"

"Well then we'll have to keep you awake somehow, and sitting in a room with boring old men probably won't do the trick."

"That particular activity has never ranked high on my list of favorites."

"Nor on mine. I think we'll have to find something else to do. No one will argue of course, we wouldn't want you to fall asleep in the sorbet during dessert." Elijah smiled at his – his what? What was he supposed to call her now? Emma had always been more than a friend to him, but now everyone knew that, including her. Yet she wouldn't take kindly to being called his fiancé, but it felt awkward to refer to her as his soulmate anywhere other than in his head.

Emma's sparkling laugh distracted him from his conundrum. "Actually, no one will protest because they're just desperate for me to fall in love with you." Amazingly, she was still laughing as she said this.

'Perhaps we've turned a corner..." Elijah thought, smiling to himself.

_Thanks for reading everyone. I'd really appreciate it if you could take the time to review. I know I'm not the best about prompt updates, but I do better with more encouragement! Even if it does take awhile between chapters, don't worry, because I'm not giving up on this story, I'm just busy. Thanks again everyone!_


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